On Waking
by Scribbles-by-Kate
Summary: Companion piece/sequel to "In Dreams", though it's not strictly necessary to read that to be able to follow this. In cursed Storybrooke, Rumple finds Belle, but there's an obstacle to waking her, or is there? Gold family one shot. Spoilers for "The Final Battle"


This one's for Emilie, to say thank you for Belle and RumBelle. I'll miss you.

 **On Waking**

Rumplestiltskin frowned in displeasure when he saw where his mother had hidden Belle away. The place was an absolute dump, more suited to some criminal lowlife than his refined, educated wife. Still, he'd found her, and now he could reunite her with Gideon.

He walked up the steps, the thought of Belle living in this hellhole making him angrier and angrier. Blast his mother for doing this to her! Once he had ensured Belle and Gideon's safety from the curse, he would deal with the Black Fairy once and for all.

He knocked on the door and waited. No one came. He knocked again, louder.

'I'm coming!' an irritated voice called from inside. He wasn't sure if it was Belle. He thought so, but maybe not.

'What?'

The door had been opened with a jerk, and there, looking a bit dishevelled, dressed in a grey cardigan, grey leggings, and a blue shirt, was his wife…scowling at him. Her 'what?' had been angry and demanding.

Her eyebrows raised then and her expression changed, first to surprise and then to guarded curiosity.

'Mr Gold,' she greeted, her accent a little different from what he was used to, a bit flatter, harder, less musical. 'You're not here for the rent, are you, 'cause, uh, you're a little early if you are. First of the month's still two weeks away.'

'No,' he said: 'no, I'm not here about the rent. I'm here on another matter, Be— Ms French.'

She narrowed her eyes at him. 'Well, you'd better come in, then.'

'Thank you.'

He followed her in and closed the door. Inside, the place was just as dingy as outside: lurid wallpaper from the early seventies, disgusting purple shag carpet that had seen better days, poky rooms, and an air of decrepitude and tackiness that offended him and probably oppressed his sweet Belle.

'You want a drink, Mr Gold?' she asked, pulling his attention away from the decor. 'I bet you're a Scotch drinker, right?'

He looked at her. A drink in the middle of the day… And that narrow-eyed look as she sucked on her tongue… And the flattening of her accent… Gods… She was Lacey! His evil mother had turned her back into Lacey! He hadn't thought of this. Gideon was still Gideon, although with curse memories: he'd expected Belle to still be Belle, though with curse memories of her own. He hadn't expected to have to deal with Lacey! Ugh, no wonder his mother had smiled the way she had when she told him where he could find Belle. How the hell was he supposed to wake her now?

She looked at him scornfully. 'It's a simple question, Mr Gold,' she said: 'you want a drink or not?'

'Not,' he said, turning his attention back to her: 'it's a little early for me.'

She shrugged lazily. 'Never too early for me.'

He cringed. Gods! She seemed somehow worse than when she was Lacey before, like she hated everything, like she cared for nothing.

Dejected, he followed her into the living room. Wallpaper peeled from the walls, and there was a ratty old couch against the wall. There was no television set, he noticed. In a corner, there was a rocking chair with a blue blanket draped over the arm, and a teddy bear sitting on the seat. The rocking chair, blanket, and bear were new, the only new things in the whole place. Something in his heart clenched. Oh, gods, no…

Lacey stepped between him and the rocking chair, something in her eyes that turned from soft to hard as she turned her attention to him. She didn't want him looking at it, he realised. Oh, gods, what terrible memories had his mother given his wife?

He turned away from her, blinking, and then he saw the books piled on the floor. He started. There were loads of them. There was one narrow bookcase that wasn't enough to hold all the books she had. The rest were stacked neatly on the floor, a rug over the filthy carpet to protect the books from it. So, there was something of Belle in Lacey after all: the books and one other thing…

'You, uh, look like you could use more shelving,' he commented.

'Yeah, well, according to the rental agreement you had me sign, I'm not allowed to make any changes,' she said sharply.

'Of course,' he said bitterly. Of course his mother would fix it so that Belle would be oppressed, miserable, and, if his hunch was right, she'd fixed it so that the one light in her life had been cruelly taken from her.

'Look, what's this about, Mr Gold?' she asked impatiently. 'I've paid my rent, stuck to the agreement, haven't caused any trouble, so why are you here?'

He watched as she reached for a glass on a rickety coffee table. Scotch: he could smell it. He could see the effects of it on her too, now. He'd missed it at first, but he could see it now: eyes glassy, cheeks slightly flushed, a sort of uncaring listlessness or torpor about her… She was numbing herself. She wasn't drunk, at least not right now, but she had been, and she would be again. Gods, he had to save her from this hell!

'This place is not very homey, is it?' he asked.

She laughed bitterly. 'Well, we can't all afford to live in big Victorian mansions,' she returned. She took another gulp of her drink.

'Is that wise?' he asked, gesturing to the glass.

'What's it to you?' she demanded. 'Look, if you've come here to judge me, you can save your breath,' she snapped.

'I just know that there are better ways to deal with your pain,' he said.

'How dare you?' she demanded, glaring at him, her eyes bright, not with alcohol now but with fury: 'you don't know _anything_ about my pain!' She was shaking, her voice trembling.

'Trust me,' he said, 'I do, and I know what it's like to reach for what you think is the cure, only to find it's more poison.'

'Get out,' she commanded.

He moved towards her, not willing to let this go on another moment. 'Listen to me, Belle—'

'Who's Belle?' she asked, frowning at him. 'Look, I don't know what you think you're playing at, Gold, but I want you to leave, right now, or, so help me, I'll scream bloody murder!'

He took the glass from her hand and put it on the coffee table. Then he held her by the arms. She started to hit him.

'Let go of me!' she screeched.

'No, I'm not letting you go,' he said, struggling with her: 'I'm not letting you believe this lie for one more second, Belle. Gods, I'm going to kill my mother for this.'

'What the hell are you talking about?' she asked, staring up at him, while still trying to get free: 'you're mad!'

'Yes, I am,' he agreed. 'I was bloody insane to think I could protect you from this blasted curse. I'm sorry, Belle, I'm so sorry.'

She was looking at him, eyes wide, shaking. 'You _are_ insane,' she breathed, trying to pull away from him.

'Look,' he said, turning her, holding her against him, her back to his front, so that they were looking at the rocking chair. 'Look, Belle.'

'No,' she moaned, 'stop it!'

'Tell me what happened,' he requested: 'tell me why you drink, what pain you're trying to numb.'

'No,' she whimpered: 'no, no!'

'Please, tell me: I can help you.'

'Nobody can help me,' she cried: 'I lost my baby and nobody can bring him back!'

A sob wrenched through her that damn near shattered his heart too. She'd collapsed against him with the weight of her grief.

'Why are you doing this to me?' she wailed, crying bitterly.

'Because you didn't lose him, Belle,' he told her. 'He came back to us, sweetheart: Gideon came back to us.'

She stilled and stared at the rocking chair, teddy bear, and blanket. Memories slammed into place.

'Gideon!' She turned her head then. 'Rumple!'

'Belle! Oh, thank gods! I didn't think I'd be able to wake you.'

She threw her arm around his neck. 'Rumple!' she cried, shaking. 'Oh, gods, Rumple, it was horrible!'

'I know,' he soothed, 'and I'm so, so sorry you had to go through that, Belle, but it's over now.'

'Where's Gideon? Is he alright?'

'He's alright,' he soothed: 'he's with me, as I expected. I had a difficult time trying to find you, though, sweetheart, and then you were Lacey…'

She trembled. 'I thought I'd lost him,' she sobbed: 'I thought I'd lost my baby, Rumple! I thought he'd died!'

'I'm sorry,' he said: 'gods, I'm so sorry, my darling Belle.'

'Hold me, Rumple,' she pleaded. 'I can't…I can't forget. Tell me it wasn't real, Rumple, please!'

He stroked her cheek. 'It wasn't real,' he promised: 'sweetheart, it wasn't real. Gideon is alive and safe. I'm going to take you to him. Everything's going to be alright now: I promise.'

She looked at him, taking deep breaths. His presence calmed her. He'd found her. He'd said he would and he had. She was awake. They were in his mother's cursed Storybrooke and he'd found her, just like he promised.

'How-how long have we been in the curse?' she asked.

'Only a day, sweetheart,' he told her. 'Henry is awake, as I suspected he would be. He said Emma's name to me and I woke. I've been trying to find you. My mother finally told me where you were, but I didn't know she'd turned you into Lacey: I should have guessed she would, and that she'd give you such terrible memories. I'm so sorry.'

She shook her head. 'No, it's not your fault. You could only guess so much, Rumple. At least you knew enough to give me a trigger word to wake me.'

'I was afraid it wouldn't work,' he admitted. 'When I realised you were Lacey, I thought I'd never be able to wake you, but then I saw the chair, and the blanket, and the bear, and I realised what she'd done. I will _kill_ her for doing that to you, Belle.'

She stroked his cheek as his eyes welled up. He'd lost a child, so he knew the pain of it: he would never want that visited on anyone, even in a false memory.

'She made a mistake by giving me that memory,' she said thoughtfully, her mind working. 'She was trying to be cruel, but, in her cruelty, she forgot about love: she forgot how much I love Gideon, how connected I am to him. In her twisted way, she made waking me easier for you: I'm sure she didn't mean to do that.'

'No, she didn't,' he agreed. 'And I believe she thought I'd prefer you as Lacey anyway.'

'She doesn't know you at all, does she?' she asked, staring at him.

He shook his head. 'She thinks I revel in darkness like she does, and that's been to my advantage, our advantage, in all of this. She never dreamed I would be working against her because she thinks I want what she wants: darkness forever.'

'But you're drawn to light,' she said, 'because you were meant to be the Saviour, and you still are. You're my Saviour, anyway, my hero.'

He stared at her. 'Sweetheart, you're mine,' he breathed, 'my Saviour, my hero, my light in the darkness. I love you so much.'

Her lips trembled into a smile. 'I love you too,' she whispered.

Her eyes roamed his face, resting on his lips, and his eyes were drawn to her parted lips.

She reached up, catching his eye. He smiled and leaned in, his hand cupping her cheek.

'I love you,' he breathed, as his lips touched hers, and Belle closed her eyes, giving herself up to him, to her love for him, hoping for them, trusting in him.

The ripple of magic made them gasp and pull apart, but they held onto each other.

'Belle…'

She beamed at him. 'Rumple! Kiss me again!'

He laughed and complied, longer and sweeter this time.

She stroked his cheek. 'True Love's Kiss! Did we break your mother's curse?'

'I think that's gonna take more than a kiss, sweetheart,' he said.

'But…' She gasped. 'Rumple, we-we broke a curse…'

He nodded, reached into his jacket and pulled out the dagger: it was blank.

Belle clapped her hands over her mouth, staring at him.

He smiled. 'I don't need it,' he said: 'I need you and Gideon.'

'I love you,' she breathed, and threw herself into his arms, kissing him again.

The magic was different this time. It swirled around them and seemed to fill Rumplestiltskin.

He staggered backwards. 'What…?'

'Rumple!' Belle cried, awed.

'What's happening?' he breathed, looking at his hands as they glowed with light.

'Your magic!' Belle cried.

'But I gave it up!' he said: 'I chose you!'

She shook her head, smiling at him. 'But don't you see? I never had a problem with the magic, just the curse that darkened your soul. Now you're free of that, but you still have the magic that was always meant to be yours: Saviour magic!'

'But she cut it out of me!'

'And our kiss turned the Darkness into light, made you the man you were meant to be, because you were brave enough to choose love. Rumple!'

She kissed him again and he clung to her, kissing her back as magic sang in his veins. He could have power _and_ love: he just had to be brave enough to choose love all along.

'I love you,' he whispered, kissing her neck: 'I love you.'

Belle laughed, wrapping her arms around him. 'I love you!' she cried, holding him to her. 'Oh, Rumple, I'm so proud of you!'

He shook his head, pulling back enough to look at her. 'This was all you, Belle,' he said: 'you loved me enough to accept my power too, even though I hurt you with it.'

'Only because you weren't honest with me, because you didn't let me in. Now you are! And I love all of you, even your demons and your dark places. I fell in love with a powerful man, but I always knew there was a good man in you, who could use that power for good, and you just proved me right.' She stroked his cheek. 'I love you so, so much!'

'I love you too,' he said, hugging her. 'Now, sweetheart, I think it's time we reunite with our son.'

She clutched his coat, looking up at him. 'Yes,' she agreed: 'I need to see our boy.'

He nodded, waved his hand, and they disappeared, reappearing back in the shop.

Gideon was sitting on a stool, reading. He looked up when they arrived.

Belle stared at her son, but he only looked curiously at her, and then at his father, holding her in his arms.

'Father,' Gideon said, 'who's this?'

'Gideon, this is your mother,' Rumplestiltskin said.

Gideon frowned as memories clicked in his mind. He gasped.

'Mother!' he cried.

'Gideon!' she breathed, delighted as her son recognised her. They rushed to each other.

'Oh, Mother,' he said, hugging her.

'My Gideon,' Belle murmured, holding him to her.

'The curse told me you were dead,' he said, crying.

'It told me the same about you,' Belle told him, also crying, 'but we're safe. Your father did as he promised and everything's going to be alright.'

'Father,' Gideon said, hugging him as he came to them. 'Thank you, Father.'

'You are more than welcome, my beautiful boy,' Rumplestiltskin said, putting his hand on Gideon's cheek.

'We're safe,' Belle said, 'just like you promised, Rumple.' And she looked up at him with shining eyes.

He held her to him. 'We're safe, but we're not out of the woods yet. This town is still cursed, and the Final Battle is still to be fought. We have much to do.'

'We're ready, Father,' Gideon said. 'Where do we start?'

'By finding Emma and the Charmings,' he said, 'and I think I know where to begin.'

'Henry,' Belle said: 'you said he's awake. I bet he knows where Emma is.'

'I think so too.'

'Then we're going to stop the Black Fairy for good?' Gideon asked.

'Yes, son, we are,' Rumplestiltskin said.

'Together,' Belle said determinedly.

And the three of them smiled at each other, filled with determination and hope, and with those, as well as their love for each other, they couldn't lose.

 **The end**


End file.
